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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740457">I gotta go, but I wanna stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandsacrificers/pseuds/angelsandsacrificers'>angelsandsacrificers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>AUgust [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magicians (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AUgust - Freeform, Banished Knight Quentin, Bodyguard AU, Fantasy AU, High King Eliot Waugh, High Queen Margo, Knight Quentin, M/M, i guess?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:30:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandsacrificers/pseuds/angelsandsacrificers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot rolled his eyes. “I’ve been kidnapped before.” The leader glared at him out of the corner of his eye, not keen on engaging with him again. Here he was for the second time, taken from the castle. This time, instead of traveling the roads, he was in a damp cave with 4 smelly and emotionally stunted men. Last time had been fine. They kept moving and even let Eliot out of his binds. Now, he hadn’t moved at all in 2 weeks and his ass hurt. Oh, and did he mention it was wet?</p><p>or</p><p>Quentin saves Eliot when the royal guard can't, but there's something Eliot doesn't know.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Quentin Coldwater &amp; Eliot Waugh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>AUgust [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Rescue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He strained against the bindings holding his wrists and ankles for the thousandth time that day. </p><p>“You know, this is rather boring.”</p><p>The kidnapper rolled his eyes. “What? Did you think we’d be braving dangerous territory? Did you expect a knight to swoop in and save you? You’ve been kidnapped and now we’re just waiting for our contact, so shut up.” The goons scoffed in agreement, and they resumed the poker game.</p><p>Eliot rolled his eyes. “I’ve been kidnapped before.” The leader glared at him out of the corner of his eye, not keen on engaging with him again. Here he was for the second time, taken from the castle. This time, instead of traveling the roads, he was in a dark, damp cave with 4 smelly and emotionally stunted men. Last time had been fine. They kept moving and even let Eliot out of his binds. Now, he hadn’t moved at all in 2 weeks and his ass hurt. Oh, and did he mention it was wet?</p><p>“It was closer to the start of my reign. Now I don’t expect you to remember, it must be hard enough going about daily life with those tiny brains.” </p><p>One of the lesser thugs snarled, and the others placed their hands on the knives tucked into their belts. Eliot cleared his throat. “They held me for three weeks. Their contact wasn’t very keen on the likes of me being High King. Wanted me alive on delivery so he could kill me himself for disgracing the name of the previous royal family.”</p><p>By then, they had lowered their cards or placed them on the table. He smiled to himself. “Obviously, the royal guard saved me. We traveled quite a distance in the time they had me. They even let me play cards with them. Stopped keeping me bound after like a week. Most fun I’ve had in a while.”</p><p>The ringleader bared his teeth. “Sorry that we’re not up to your standards, your highness.”<br/>
Eliot shook his head. “All that is to say, I’m just curious about your contact. They don’t want me on the throne, but I’m still alive.”</p><p>Leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hand drooping between, he snarled, “Don’t know. He’s anonymous. Just wants you delivered to a precise location and handed to a specific person. Just doing my job. No need to ask questions as long as I’m getting my money.”</p><p>He nodded thoughtfully. “Mmm money motivation. Kind of materialistic-” He felt his cheek sting before he registered the slap. “Shut up,” he growled, “or the gag goes back on.” Slumping back, Eliot drew out a long “fine.” </p><p>Abruptly, one of the goons sat up. “Did you hear that?”</p><p>Eliot strained to listen, and he swore he could hear clinking from somewhere in the long tunnel. He tried not to get his hopes up because it could have been anyone. Didn’t mean they were here for him. All the thugs drew their knives, waiting. The clinking ceased. </p><p>One of them, the dumbest, if they were being honest, stalked forward and entered the tunnel. The remaining three stood stiff in anticipation. Shouts exploded from the tunnel and ceased with an echoing thump.<br/>
The clanking became louder as the unknown attacker moved faster down the tunnel. The second goon barely made it past the tunnel entrance before there was the clanking of colliding metal and a final loud crack that sounded too much like bones for Eliot’s liking. </p><p>A knight pushed into the small cave, and then there was a flurry of motion. He quickly knocked out the last goon and began battling with the leader. He put up a formidable fight for knives against a sword. Finally, the knight thrust his sword through the thug and pulled it back out with a sickening squelch.</p><p>The knight ambled over to where Eliot sat, still bound, taking care not to step on any bodies. He lifted his visor as he knelt, and Eliot gave a sharp inhale. </p><p>“My king,” the knight rumbled. “I believe you belong in the castle.” A wide smile greeted Eliot and awaited an answer.  Under normal circumstances, Eliot would have fired back with some playful and witty banter, but as usual, these were not normal circumstances. </p><p>Eliot knew the knights. Hell, in all 7 years of his reign he had knighted 12 of them. Most of the knights who had fought during his predecessor’s reign had either died or retired, and they didn’t keep their armor because it got destroyed most of the time. Who was this man saving him from his kidnappers? How could he have a knight’s armor, and what motive did he have to take Eliot? So without better judgment, and a need for self-preservation, he blurted, “Who the hell are you?”</p><p>“I go by Quentin these days.” The knight’s face hadn’t changed. </p><p>He squinted, “And who are you taking me to?”</p><p>That got a laugh. “The royal council, duh.”</p><p>“If you’re serious, then unbind me.” Holding his chin high, he held his wrists out and kicked his feet up while Quentin severed the ropes. He walked forward and shook out his wrists. The thick ropes had bruised them. To stretch out felt good, the burn in his calves and forearms welcome. As he bent down, he grabbed the blade of one of the goons. He thrust it into Quentin’s face as he spun around. </p><p>“How do you have the knight’s armor?”</p><p>Quentin spluttered in surprise. Before he could respond, one of the goons stirred. Footsteps pounding down the tunnel became louder and louder. Eliot faltered and Quentin ran into him, throwing the king over his shoulder.</p><p>“Your highness! We must leave. Their contact will be here at any moment.”</p><p>“It’s not like I have a choice!” Eliot yelled back. </p><p>He gripped Quentin’s waist as the knight ran. Eliot couldn’t see but was almost certain he heard Quentin hit Tunnel Goon with the hilt of his sword. He slumped to the ground when they passed and Eliot looked up. All of a sudden, daylight washed into his vision like a brick to the head. His eyes were still adjusting to the bright sunlight before Quentin all but slammed him into the ground.</p><p>“Ow, what the fuck I’m your king-”</p><p>“Apologies highness, but I have to get on the horse first.”</p><p>Blinking, he scrambled up as Quentin mounted his horse. The horse felt lean and sturdy under his thighs.<br/>
“Well, I suppose you are literally my knight in shining armor. Thanks, I suppose. Unless you are planning to kill me, in which case, asshole.” </p><p>Quentin apparently wasn’t listening, or just didn’t have the time. The horse barreled forward, and Eliot barely got his arms around Quentin before he fell off. </p><p>“I am your king who you just rescued, at least give me some warning before I suffer severe injuries from your horse,” Eliot yelled. Quentin chuckled, and Eliot put his face into his armored shoulder. </p><p>~~</p><p>The ride back to Whitespire wasn’t as terrible or grievously long as Eliot thought it would be. Eventually, Quentin had slowed his mare, who is apparently named Jane, and they had made friendly amicable conversation. Eliot still needed an answer though. </p><p>“You know, you never told me where you got your armor.” Quentin had taken off his helmet somewhere along the more relaxed ride, and Eliot, loathe as he was to admit it, is transfixed by the messy brown hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. “I swear I would remember knighting you.”</p><p>Though Eliot couldn’t see it, Quentin smirked. “How’s that?”</p><p>“First, asshole, I have an impeccable memory,” Eliot huffed. “I swear I would remember that hair. Also, it’s probably in my best interest to remember who’s in my own Noble Guard.”</p><p>Quentin let out a soft chuckle. “My apologies your grace.” He hesitated. “King Fogg knighted me.” </p><p>Eliot scoffed. “Okay. Why didn’t you just say so? You’re acting like it’s a crime against the crown to even mention it.” </p><p>Quentin threw an inquisitive look over his shoulder. “Do you… do you um… really not know?”</p><p>Before Eliot could even ask what he didn’t know, Quentin halted Jane. They were on the hill at the edge of the woods with Whitespire on the horizon. Quentin hung his head. </p><p>“I’m sorry, your highness, but we must part ways here. I trust you can make it to Whitespire," he mumbled.</p><p>Eliot pulled his hands off Quentin’s waist. “What the hell? You saved me. Let me honor and reward you or some shit. Tick will be ecstatic.”</p><p>Quentin gave a soft smile at the mention of Tick. “I’m afraid the royal council would not receive me well.”</p><p>“Well I don’t give a fuck,” Eliot asserted. Quentin spluttered in protest, but Eliot wouldn’t hear it. “I will commandeer your horse if I have to. Don’t underestimate me.”</p><p>“Sire please-”</p><p>“I’m the High King, what I say goes. Take me to Whitespire, Quentin.”</p><p>Quentin could only nod, but he put his helmet back on as they continued forward. He leaned forward onto Quentin, content for the moment, but frowning at the helmet. </p><p>It didn’t take much longer after that to reach the castle. They halted again on the garden path just outside of the main doors. Eliot dismounted as Tick ran up to meet him and a stable boy came from the opposite direction to handle Jane. </p><p>“Highness! You’re back! We were so worried,” Tick gushed. He furrowed his brows. “Where is the rescue guard?” </p><p>“A single hand saved me, Tick.” He turned. “Quentin, dear, take off your helmet.” </p><p>Tick’s eyes widened at the name and practically popped out of his skull when Quentin showed his face. He looked frantic. “Highness-”</p><p>“Enough, Tick,” he declared. “Daddy needs a bath so the sooner this council meeting is over, the happier your High King will be.”</p><p>Tick paused as if he were about to say something else, but nodded and scurried away to gather the council at Eliot’s glare. Turning, he flashed a dazzling smile at Quentin. Stock still, hands clasped behind his back, Quentin looked as if he was a mannequin. </p><p>“Follow along dear knight in shining armor.”</p><p>Eliot strode through the castle with his head high. The staff’s jaws dropped as the duo passed by, and Eliot chalked it up to the fact that he was covered in dirt and a small amount of blood. Nevertheless, he was back to rule his people. Quentin’s armor clanked softly as he hurried along.</p><p>He threw the throne room doors open and stormed up the steps to further tower over everyone. Quentin had stayed huddled near the door, looking like a scared rabbit. Eliot had to make big swooping gestures to beckon Quentin to the front and to his right. He all but ran forward and stood at the base of the dais, fidgeting like a squirrel in the Flying Forest.</p><p>“Okay,” Eliot began, exasperated. “What the fuck.”</p><p>Tick leaned forward. “Highness--”</p><p>“Eliot! Thank fuck.” High Queen Margo came running up and practically barreled him over in a hug. “All these idiots are so boring. I was about to come and get you myself.” Eliot squeezed her and took a deep breath. “Bambi! I missed you.” He punctuated his point by kissing her hair.</p><p>Straightening back out, he continued. “Right, where was I? Oh yes, what the fuck.”</p><p>Tick looked as if he was going to spontaneously combust. “Highness,” he gave one of his wicked smiles, “we sent out a rescue team of our finest knights. They were appointed by the High Queen herself.”</p><p>Margo turned to him, appalled. “You’re telling me those bitches didn’t rescue you? How the fuck did you get out?”</p><p>He swooped his arm out, gesturing at his knight in shining armor. “This is Quentin, and he accomplished what a whole team of knights could not.” Margo nodded approvingly. </p><p>Quentin had seemed to lose all confidence by this point. He lifted a hand in greeting then seemed to remember that he was addressing the High Queen, and bowed mumbling out, “Your grace.”</p><p>Margo’s smiled faltered, and her brow furrowed. “Hold on, how does he have knight’s armor?” she began. “I’ve never seen him before.”<br/>
Tick seemed to be determined to bother Eliot today. “Highness, <i>if I may</i>.”</p><p>“Shut up, Tick.” Eliot stamped his foot. He turned back to Margo. “King Fogg knighted him.”</p><p>“Yeah, but how-” something dawned on Margo’s face. “El-”</p><p>He took a deep breath. “Bambi, I’m sorry but,” he gritted his teeth, “I’m not at my highest level of patience right now.” He turned one last time to address his council. </p><p>“All right,” he began again, “today I was saved from my kidnappers by this brave man named Quentin.” He gestured towards Quentin again and the entire room tensed. “Now, since apparently, our entire fucking guard is incompetent, the evidence being that I was taken from my <i>own room</i> and held for two weeks in some dank <i>cave</i>,” he took a breath. “I’m appointing Quentin as my personal bodyguard until further notice.”</p><p>The room erupted in noise. Quentin whirled around, looking at Eliot like he was crazy with eyes so wide they looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. There were protests from almost everyone. Tick was trying his hardest to be heard. “Highness--”</p><p>“Enough!” The room silenced at the High King’s yell. Margo grabbed his arm.<br/>
“El, are you sure you can trust this guy?” she whispered. </p><p>“Margo he found me and saved me from 4 thugs single-handedly. Our most pristine team couldn’t do that. I don’t trust the soldiers we have now very much. Plus, Fogg knighted him. I don’t think he will like, assassinate me the first chance he gets.” He kissed her hand. “Don’t worry Bambi.” Margo didn’t look satisfied, but she let it drop for the moment.</p><p>“Last thing, everyone gets the day off.” The council glanced at each other. “Or take it through Margo. I might not get out of the bath for the next 48 hours. Dismissed.”</p><p>Nobody moved. Eliot sighed and made his way to the door. He glanced back and saw Quentin hadn’t moved an inch. </p><p>“Come on Q. You’ve gotta protect me from all the big bads now or Bambi might have you executed.”</p><p>The gentle clanking of Quentin’s armor was strangely comforting as Eliot made his way to the royal baths.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Ceremony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eliot finds out about Quentin and makes a couple of decisions. Margo is not happy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After dismissing Quentin to go and retrieve his things, Eliot stepped into the large royal bathroom and sighed. He took a few moments to stretch out just because he could finally move again. It had felt so amazing to finally be home. Eliot would never get tired of the majesty that was Castle Whitespire just over the horizon. But the best thing about returning was feeling that sense of home, that sense of belonging that came with returning to his Queen Bambi and his title of High King. It just felt right.</p><p> </p><p>Some of the servants had probably heard him yelling about having a bath because the tub was full of hot water. Eliot breathed in the scent of lavender and allowed himself to be calm for a moment. Being High King was a stressful job and Eliot knew the importance of taking moments for himself. He had to hold off those wrinkles for as long as possible after all.</p><p> </p><p>Eliot had dropped his robe when there was a knock at the door. He gently placed his crown on the counter as he called, “Come in!”</p><p> </p><p>Heels clicked on the floor and just from her gait, Eliot knew it was Margo. He gave a soft smile. His Bambi. The years of loving her would never fade from his mind. Turning, he was faced with a very disgruntled Margo. </p><p> </p><p>“El-”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry Bambi I know it’s a big commitment. I’ll buy him dinner first.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighed. “El, you don’t know this guy.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot gave her a carefully blank stare. </p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t known a lot of people.”</p><p> </p><p>Images of sneaking away to other villages and having his way with what he could find at the tavern filled his mind. He could really only remember about 6 names. </p><p> </p><p>She gave her head a shake. “No, El, you have to listen to me. This is bad. You have to denounce him and tell him to go back to where he came from.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot gracefully sunk his long limbs into the warm water. “I mean, I kind of already sent him home. He’s going to need his stuff if he’s going to be staying here long term.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you better hope for all our sakes he stays in his hovel.” She gave him a pointed stare. </p><p> </p><p>He gave her a pointed frown in return. “Margo you don’t know where he lives. Why are you being so hostile?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can take a good godsdamn guess! You don’t know about him, Eliot!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then enlighten me!” he practically shouted. “What’s wrong with Quentin?”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot had no clue why Margo was this upset about some random guy who <em> literally saved his life, hello! </em> He trusted Margo though, and if she said something was wrong, he was going to listen. First, though, he had to stand his ground so Margo wouldn’t tell him to ovary up. </p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t you wonder why he has his armor?”</p><p> </p><p>Well yes, he wanted to respond. It’s one of the first things I asked him about as I held a knife to his throat. As you do.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t realize who he was when I heard the name. The armor and King Fogg’s knighting made me remember.” She sighed deeply as if she were regretting a lifetime full of wrongdoing. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been reading up on Fillory’s history because I know neither of us paid attention to the world around us because we were busy being beautiful mega bitches. And we definitely didn’t pay attention the what, like, 3 times we went to the schoolhouse because my mom was a traveling saleswoman and your dad was an asshole farmer-”</p><p> </p><p>“Margo,” Eliot warned.</p><p> </p><p> “Fine. Sorry. Okay, so during King Fogg’s reign, Quentin was revered throughout Fillory--”</p><p><br/>“Then why does he live in a ‘hovel’?” Eliot flicked water at her absentmindedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up and listen. Quentin was such a spectacular knight,” she continued. “He was an amazing leader and knew every detail about sword fighting. He’s only ever lost one duel.”</p><p> </p><p>She fixed her eyes on him for a moment and then looked away. “One day King Fogg ordered him to take a few other knights and transport a prisoner to Loria. The order strictly said that she stayed alive no matter what.”</p><p> </p><p>“As I said before, Quentin was the best knight. Never disobeyed orders. They got about 3 miles out from the border when the prisoner broke free.”</p><p> </p><p>Margo turned her intense gaze on him once again.</p><p> </p><p>“She was a powerful magician, and soon she started killing the knights. Quentin hesitated to land a fatal blow because his orders were that she was kept alive no matter what. He let the rest of his team die and the prisoner escaped.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot sucked in a breath, but Margo had more.</p><p> </p><p>“The kingdom was outraged, and it had never been so divided. Some thought Quentin was following orders and only deserved a slap on the wrist, but everyone else christened him a murderer. Fogg had no choice but to dishonorably discharge Quentin. He moved out into the far reaches of the kingdom, but he was still scorned for getting those men killed. Eliot, for Umber’s sake, people tried to kill the man in the <em> market! </em> It’s a wonder he’s alive.”</p><p> </p><p>He soaked silently for a moment, taking in Margo’s words. Eliot waved his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well, he didn’t actually kill any of them. He was following orders.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gods El,” she shouted, “it doesn’t matter what you think about it, the entire kingdom knows who he is, and they’re going to <em> talk </em>. They’re not going to trust you El. You have to send him back.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot was fuming. He had just been held captive for <em> two weeks. </em> Right now he wanted to bathe and <em> sleep. </em> He didn’t want to deal with all this diplomatic bullshit until he had smelled his lavender and <em> chilled out </em> godsdamnit <em> . </em></p><p> </p><p>“Margo, enough,” he snapped. Her jaw opened and closed with a pop. “I am <em> exhausted. </em>Right now, I need to rest, okay? I will deal with it in the morning, and I’ll talk to Quentin when he gets back.”</p><p> </p><p>Margo looked furious, and also like she wouldn’t hesitate to decapitate Eliot right now. She stomped towards the door and paused as she threw it open.</p><p> </p><p>“Word travels fast.” She shot him a final glare and left.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed and sunk down in the tub until his nose was just above the water.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>That evening, he entered the chambers across from his without a second thought. </p><p> </p><p>Quentin had returned a few hours prior with an exhausted horse and a small beat-up wagon trailing behind him. He had brought two trunks, one full of clothes and the other full of a few miscellaneous belongings. When Eliot walked in Quentin was diligently polishing his armor.</p><p> </p><p>Eliot had to clear his throat before Quentin realized his presence. Eyes going wide, he scrambled up and dipped into a bow. “My king.”</p><p> </p><p>He scoffed. “Please, call me Eliot. We’ll be spending a lot of time together now, and the titles will get so dreadfully boring.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin looked ready to book it out of the castle, and Eliot found himself smiling. He couldn’t exactly blame Quentin though. He wouldn’t know how to feel if every single person in the castle no longer trusted him and thought he was a murderer.</p><p> </p><p>With the newfound information about Quentin, Eliot had had to do some deep thinking. If Quentin was one of the best knights, then wouldn’t it be a good idea to have him by his side? It isn’t like the man has a track record of assassinating kings. Plus, Eliot was tired of being kidnapped, so he was going to pull from Earth politics and declare Quentin <em> innocent until proven guilty </em>. A child of Earth might say he wasn’t using that correctly, but it sounded good enough to Eliot.</p><p> </p><p>Quentin bit his lip. “I don’t know if I can promise to just drop years of practice and discipline, but I will try your- m- uh- Eliot.” When he finally got it right he smiled, and Eliot could’ve sworn the room got brighter. He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I came in here to talk to you.” As soon as the words left Eliot’s mouth, Quentin tensed. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not here to get rid of you--don’t worry.” He gestured for Quentin to sit on the bed, and Eliot sat in the chair across from him. He massaged his temples.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, Quentin, Margo gave me the rundown. I know why you’re so skittish, and I’m sorry that I dragged you here.” Quentin was looking pointedly at the floor, and he almost felt pity for how uncomfortable the man looked. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re a great knight. Hell, probably the best knight in Fillory, so I’d be honored to have you protecting me since my entire guard can’t.” He gave a thin smile and laced his fingers together. “What I have to ask you now is if you’re comfortable staying. I know now that the kingdom likely won’t trust you, might ridicule you, and might threaten you. I understand if you want to go home.”</p><p> </p><p>He stared at Eliot a moment longer before he rose. “Yesterday morning I rode out in search of the High King because he had been taken from the throne and no one had retrieved him. This morning I found him, and he asked me to stay and serve him. I rode home to gather my things as fast as I could, so my king would not be left waiting.” He kneeled. “It would be a great honor to protect and serve you, High King Eliot.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot reveled in it for just a moment. Was Quentin seriously this loyal to Fillory? No wonder King Fogg had kept him around. “Alright, stand up and quit being weird.”</p><p> </p><p>And so Quentin stood with his hands behind his back, ready to receive orders with a soft smile on his face. Eliot clapped a hand onto a shoulder that was now only covered in an undershirt.</p><p> </p><p>“Good man Quentin uh…” he trailed. </p><p> </p><p>“Coldwater.” Eliot made a face.</p><p> </p><p>“Quentin Coldwater?” </p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh. You don’t want to hear my middle name.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take you up on that,” Eliot relented. “Two things before I go.” Quentin nodded. “Tell me your side of the story someday, okay?” Quentin bit his lip but nodded slowly. </p><p> </p><p>Elio hesitated on this next one, but gave in and sighed. “Why did you save me?”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin looked genuinely surprised at the question. “Well--well you’re the king,” he stuttered out. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m aware. That’s an answer I’d expect from someone I actively employ. Why did <em> you </em>save me?”</p><p> </p><p>He was frozen. “I don’t--I don’t really know I guess. When I went into the market to get food for the month, they told me how the High King had been kidnapped again, and that it had been about two weeks and they still hadn’t found you. I guess I just took it upon myself to come save you since no one else was going to.”</p><p> </p><p>The man standing before him could not be real. The children of Earth <em> had </em>said that the opium in the air contained hallucinogenic properties. Eliot regarded him for a moment. “Quentin, where did you use to live?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s three things, my lord,” he said with a wry smile.</p><p> </p><p>“And we talked about titles,” Eliot jested back. He turned towards the door and made to exit, but caught himself on the doorframe. “Goodnight Sir Quentin.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin’s smile faltered and Eliot could swear he felt a chill in the room. “Oh uh, your majesty, I don’t have my title anymore. I um, I don’t suppose I can serve you without my title.” He was staring sadly at his feet again. Eliot frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it seems you have a knighting ceremony to prepare for. I’ll have to introduce you to everyone tomorrow. Are you free the day after?”</p><p> </p><p>His brow furrowed. “I’m at your command.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was a <em> joke, </em>Coldwater!” Eliot called from down the hall.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>What Quentin didn’t seem to realize was that Eliot meant <em> everyone. </em>He seemed to know most of the kitchen staff since most of them had stayed due to the opportunity to make new dishes to satisfy the new king.  Eliot gave Quentin the names of every guard member that patrolled the halls, and all of the servant names save for a few that exclusively served Margo. The knights were all new though, save for old Geoffery who simply refused to retire because he was dead set on serving until he died. </p><p> </p><p>Lastly, he took Quentin to his first council meeting of the day to introduce him to the council members. He strode up to where Tick was furiously scribbling on some parchment.</p><p> </p><p>“And this is Ti-”</p><p> </p><p>“Tick Pickwick of House Pickwick,” Quentin finished. “Nice to see you again, Tick.”</p><p> </p><p>At the approach of the king and the sound of his name, Tick popped up. He turned a glare on Quentin.</p><p> </p><p>“Your majesty,” he bowed, “Quentin.”</p><p> </p><p>The room went silent and Eliot thought he would have to take Tick to the side and order him to be nice to the newest addition of the royal house <em> or else </em>(though if it weren’t for the combination of Margo’s force and Tick’s rationality the kingdom would be in shambles) when Tick let out a chuckle. Quentin started laughing and they shared a brief embrace before Tick began speaking again. </p><p> </p><p>“These halls have missed your presence.” Tick looked as if he were about to burst with joy, but he suddenly turned solemn. “I knew who you were, Quentin Coldwater. I do not know you now, but I hope it isn’t much different than the last time you were here. Your presence alone poses a threat to the king’s safety. I’d sleep with one eye open.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite how Quentin had tensed and awkwardly stumbled through conversation with everyone else, he was completely unfazed at the warning Tick was giving him. He nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Tick. I’m here to serve my king, but I’ll keep an eye out for my own sake.”</p><p> </p><p>Tick approved, or whatever because he turned to Eliot and bowed. “Highness, the council meeting is about to begin.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot gave his acknowledgment to Tick and strode up the dais to drape himself across his throne. Quentin stood before him silently, unsure of what to do. Eliot gave a famous grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Come stand right behind my throne and look pretty, dear Quentin. Consider this your first and only day of training. At least until we can get your title back.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin stood at attention and the meeting began as Margo ran in, thankfully not late today, and Rafe wheeled in Abigail. Eliot zoned out as the diplomacy rambled on, but someone must have been giving a long speech because Quentin leaned in and whispered, “Is that a sloth?”</p><p> </p><p>He tried to reign in his amusement and whispered back, “Yes, Tick recommended we add ‘one of Fillory’s greatest political minds’ to the council. We did not know, however, that that meant a sloth--her name’s Abigail by the way--and her translator, Rafe.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin seemed to be satisfied because he straightened back up, but he leaned back in briefly to whisper, “I think you should pay attention because they’re about to ask you a question.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot sat up a little straighter. </p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Eliot generally enjoyed the aftermath of evening council meetings because the council usually filed out to go home or attend to nightly duties and Margo ran off to do some routine evening rounds. He was left to revel in his majesty on his throne and just <em> be </em>while the sun set behind him. It was some nice alone time granted to him by the darkening of the throne room. Except Quentin was with him now and he’d been so silent Eliot had nearly forgotten he was there. Margo had been right about him; he was disciplined to a fault. </p><p> </p><p>Sometime later, after Eliot had reflected enough for one night, he gestured for Quentin to come stand in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“So are you ready to be a knight again?”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin’s eyes almost <em> sparkled </em>, gods. </p><p> </p><p>“I am excited to serve Fillory again, and at the King’s side no less. Being discharged was one of the greatest losses I have suffered.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you always this noble?” Eliot scoffed. “Anyway, I’ve already planned the ceremony tomorrow. It’ll be more simplistic than I’d prefer, but we did only have one day notice.” He was excited himself, he hadn’t knighted someone in forever, and knighting ceremonies were generally almost as grand as weddings. They also tended to end in some sordidly splendid parties.</p><p> </p><p>“There are just two things I need, my ceremonial sword and your middle name.”</p><p> </p><p>With absolutely perfect timing a high-pitched voice rang through the throne room shouting, ‘Sire! Sire!’</p><p> </p><p>Fen ran in holding a sheathed sword, out of breath. “Your highness.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot grimaced. “Quentin, I almost forgot someone. This is Fen, the royal blacksmith. Good thing I didn’t forget because you’ll most likely need her services.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin and Fen exchanged nods. She ran up the dais and held the sword out to Eliot. </p><p> </p><p>“Your ceremonial sword. I spent all night sharpening and polishing it. Don’t worry Quentin, it’s not sharp enough to cut your shoulders. Well, it won’t really have the opportunity to cut your shoulders because you’ll be wearing your armor so-”</p><p> </p><p>He stood up abruptly, taking the sword. “Thank you Fen. I was expecting it by morning, so I appreciate your haste.” She was beaming so brightly she was almost glowing. </p><p> </p><p>The sheathe was a custom order and since the ceremonial sword was such a rare sighting it needed as much flair as possible. The leather featured intricate stitches in swirling designs surrounding Fillorian sapphires and Earth amethysts. He fixed the belt around his waist. </p><p> </p><p>“Makepeace.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin cleared his throat. “It’s uh- that’s my middle name. You have everything for the ceremony tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Yes, they did, didn’t they? A wicked smile grew on Eliot’s face as he slowly made his way to the bottom step.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Quentin, as my bodyguard, I need your advice.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin’s face garnered a confused expression. “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have just been kidnapped.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“And a lot of people aren’t very happy with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin frowned. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“So if we threw a big party where anyone could easily sneak in, and say, oh I don’t know,” Eliot waved a hand, “kill us, that might be a bad idea, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I will protect you with my life, my king.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyebrows started to rise in realization.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you much of a party person Quentin?”</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head as a small smile played on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Your majesty, if I may?”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot swept a hand out, gesturing for him to have the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“I believe if we held the ceremony tonight we could avoid potential assassins that might have arrived during or after the ceremony. We can both remain safe while protecting those who live in the castle.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot faked surprise. “Why, Quentin, that is a <em> splendid </em> idea! Fen,” she perked up, her smile not having faltered. “Be a dear and grab a servant or two and tell them to fetch High Queen Margo, Tick, and Geoffrey.”</p><p> </p><p>She ran off and he was hit with the full force of Quentin’s smile.  “You didn’t have to do any of this, your majesty.” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course I did. We need three witnesses and with both rulers, a councilman, and a knight present nobody can complain. And it’s Eliot,” he tacked on.</p><p> </p><p>Quentin just stood there, dumbstruck. </p><p> </p><p>“I believe you have some armor to get into? You can’t be a knight without armor.” He considered. “Well, you could, if you were an idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot gave a glance to the sun that was beginning to set as Quentin ran out. It was the perfect setting.</p><p> </p><p>With a couple of quick hand movements, Eliot was wearing the outfit he had originally planned to wear tomorrow. He only had a few more breaths to himself before Margo burst in. </p><p> </p><p>“Eliot are you crazy?”</p><p> </p><p>He let a smile of amusement play upon his lips. “Why Bambi, I’m being perfectly rational.”</p><p> </p><p>“El honey, look at me,” Margo grabbed him by the shoulders and held on fiercely.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Bambi, I do enjoy a good manhandling.” Eliot almost dropped his smile at her murderous look. </p><p> </p><p>“First you bring home a random guy--don’t give me that look--that just <em> happened </em>to save you, and you appoint him as your bodyguard. Then, you find out that he’s been dishonorably discharged from the Knights of Fillory and you don’t even care? You think it’s a brilliant idea to give this man who, by the way, is considered dangerous and is completely untrusted by the public his title back because you just want to. Are you taking any of the risks into account? This is fucking crazy!”</p><p> </p><p>“But Bambi,” Eliot pouted, “We live on crazy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not when it concerns your life or our fucking kingdom,” she hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Margo, listen to me. That man doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. And if he tries something… well I can handle myself--”</p><p> </p><p>“You know one shield charm and he has a <em> sword </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot let out an exasperated sigh. “And like I said, he’s not going to do anything. I take full responsibility for him. Come on, he’s high strung. You should’ve seen him talk to literally everyone today. 50 gold pieces on him being a nerd. You love those. Let’s have some fun.” He shimmied his shoulders to get his point across.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Margo rolled her eyes. “But he’s your responsibility. I’m not helping you with this one.”</p><p> </p><p>Contrary to what Margo was probably thinking, Eliot wasn’t looking to bed Quentin and be done with him. Knight titles were a serious ordeal, and he knew that. He really <em> was </em>tired of being kidnapped, so he needed a bodyguard. Why go looking for one when one showed up for him?</p><p> </p><p>He gave Margo an affectionate squeeze and looked up to see that servants had filed in and lined the walls of the throne room. Tick came in, panting, and Geoffrey and the rest of the Knights of Fillory lined either side of the walkway. Eliot smiled as Margo put out the torches leaving the room lit only by the rapidly receding sunset. </p><p> </p><p>He heard a faint clank on the other side of the doors. It was time to begin. </p><p> </p><p>“We are gathered here to witness the second knighting of Quentin Makepeace Coldwater,” he projected. He felt Margo’s reaction to Quentin’s middle name behind him. He couldn’t blame her. </p><p> </p><p>The doors opened and Quentin stood tall, golden light glinting off his freshly polished armor. His hair had been brushed and his face almost glowing, it was so clean. Evidently, the servants had caught him before he had made it to the throne room.</p><p> </p><p>Quentin knelt at Eliot’s feet. “I know what this kingdom, even the people in this room think of the man before me. I am willing to admit I did not know of his past when I brought him to the castle.”</p><p> </p><p>The whole room tensed. Quentin’s left knuckles were white around his helmet. </p><p> </p><p>“The past is the past,” he continued. “This man took it upon himself to save the High King for no other reason than the fact it needed to be done. He rode to the edges of Fillory and back to Whitespire in a matter of hours only because he did not wish to keep his King waiting. He agreed to serve me knowing what might happen to him and what he might endure for staying in the public eye. When I look at this man, I do not see the past that has plagued him, only the courage and loyalty to Fillory in his eyes, and no doubt in his heart.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot unsheathed his gleaming silver longsword and brought it above his head. Slowly, he lowered it in front of himself and then gently placed it flat on Quentin’s left shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Arise, Sir Quentin Makepeace Coldwater,” he flipped the sword over and placed it on his right shoulder. “Knight of Fillory.”</p><p> </p><p>Sir Quentin stood and immediately Eliot saw the tears forming at his eyes. The room erupted in cheers and applause. He bowed and Eliot spoke lowly so only they could hear, “Are you sure you’re ready to uphold this oath again?”</p><p> </p><p>“I am at your command, Eliot.”</p><p> </p><p>When his name fell off Quentin’s tongue, everything froze. </p><p> </p><p>Quentin was swathed in the golden light of the sunset. The sun’s glow made him radiant. The pure joy on his face only added to light’s intensity. Eliot didn’t know if he’d ever seen such beauty. </p><p> </p><p>Right then everything seemed to click into place. This felt right somehow. Like this was supposed to happen. Like Quentin was supposed to be here with him. Something flashed before his eyes. It was too quick to make out what it was, but it was definitely he and Quentin standing at the top of the dais together. Was this an out of body experience?</p><p> </p><p>When time seemed to start again, Eliot felt fear begin to seep in at the edges of him. He had never had <em> feelings </em>explode on him like this. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe Margo was right.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welcome to Chapter 2! I have no idea what the fuck's going on, so if you choose to stay, it's going to be a ride. This was insane to write because once I finished I checked the word count of the chapter and it was 4,000+ words. I... have never written that much for a single chapter and I have no idea how I did it. Also, don't worry, we'll hear about Quentin's side of the story soon enough, and you'll get to hear about Eliot and Margo's journey to the throne! Quick question; do you guys feel like the pacing is too fast, or is that just me? I tried to slow it down, but I don't know if I did. Thank you for reading! As always interaction and constructive criticism is appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The title is lyrics taken from California Friends by The Regrettes. This was inspired by the first AUgust prompt. Now, I'm stupid and had no idea the prompt list was available before August, so I might stretch posting into September because I had a lot of fun with this fic. I know I didn't reveal why Quentin is, well if you noticed the tags, technically banished. Or how any of AU Fillory works. It just felt right to end here. I had way too much fun with this AU and I'm interested in turning it into a multichapter fic, so let me know if you like it. Thank you for reading, and as always constructive criticism is appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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